I am Adventure Dog!
I have braved the mighty collosusses of the road; driven through foul torrential rain; woofed in the face of the long dark night; consumed the unending tracks of tar and concrete. I have been There. And furthermore, I have come Back.
Admittedly my primary contribution to the process was sleeping in the boot, then going mental at Donnington Park services – so many stones! So much peeing to do! – but you know, it still counts, right?
So, Cheshire. I think I’m generally in favour.
Her parents have a very nice house, with a floor plan much more appropriate to someone of my stature. I even got to sleep in a room, not a crate. Not entirely sure so much liberty is good for me, though, and it was quite warm next to the boiler. Next time I shall batter my way into the conservatory, as that looked fascinating, with all kinds of things that were crying out for a chew.
Loads of walks too, as I kept getting taken up the road for the loo. Lots of interesting smells, people and dogs to meet (when allowed, HARRUMPH!), so all quite overwhelming. I have to say I was a bit taken aback at the number of other dogs who clearly haven’t trained their People to tidy up after them, particularly given the place must have had the highest density of poo bins I’ve ever come across. Maybe living near farms makes you fond of seeing poo lying around, but it’s not for this Townie.
The whole thing was over all too quickly. I did manage to eek out the enjoyment by being especially manic in front of the motorway police at the services on the way home. Unexpected bonus – you put a little bit in …
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